


Quo Vadis

by crypt_mirror



Category: Dominion (TV)
Genre: Mostly canon events with uncanon thoughts (maybe)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-10
Updated: 2015-04-10
Packaged: 2018-03-22 03:30:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3713236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crypt_mirror/pseuds/crypt_mirror
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As Michael stands alone on top of a sea cliff after the events of "Beware Those Closest to You."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Quo Vadis

**Author's Note:**

> Quo Vadis ( Where are you going?)

Quo Vadis

 

"If ever there was a time for your return, it would be now. Please the silence is deafening." A son's cry for his Father. A cry that remained unanswered, drowned out by the deafening crash of the angry waves, as he stood on top of a sea cliff. 

An Archangel. _The Archangel_. Michael tasked himself to fight for humanity, to protect the Chosen One. At the end of the day he was still a son who needed his Father.

Justice.

" _Michael, I did it for us."_

One could say love made her do it. Or to be precise, Becca Thorn's idea of love.

_" I don't want a good man. I want a great one. The man who I love."_

Instead of his Father, a voice within him spoke. She tortured and mutilated an innocent for you. Agony beyond hope. Suffering beyond what can be imagined especially for one of our kind. The final cruelty was that Louis could not die. Even if she had cut him open. Even if she butchered his wings off him. Even as she sliced little pieces off him each time. Even as blood oozed out of him in a steady drip on the metal basin. The steady drip of his blood hitting metal echoed around him, a companion to the dizzying, raw pain that was constant. 

Louis could not die because of his gifts, now they were a curse. So he laid there, his flesh carved out, open and raw, hurriedly sewn together with metal wires, to be opened up again when she needed to dissect and probe and take more pieces of his flesh. Under the glare of the glass dome, he prayed for mercy that would take form in death. True death.

Finally his prayers were answered. Michael came. As Michael stood over Louis, he felt everything that Louis felt, saw everything that he had seen. Every stab, every cut, every time she removed every single piece of flesh from him, at that very moment Michael felt each and single one of them. And he felt it when they subdued him with the wing restraints then held him down. In a singular barbaric act they pulled the wings out of his back and hacked them off him. It was an onslaught to his very being. The Archangel's gift of empathy, now his curse. 

The Archangel's empyrean sword to the heart, released one of them from agony. _As my friend please, please._ And then Rebecca Thorn walked into the room. Michael took her by her neck, crushed her windpipe and suffocated her.

Michael blamed himself. Blamed himself for being the object of Becca Thorn's blindness. The blindness that made her choose to do this cruel act. It was a waste. She was a brilliant human. Smarter than any of her age. She loved knowledge, science, medicine. She helped developed the eye scanner. Vega's medical facilities were organized under her leadership. The Agri tower improvements were hers, too. Always thinking, a genius, extremely driven. Driven towards her goal to protect Vega, and to protect Michael and her. 

Rebecca Thorn died by his hand. Justice.

It might have been delivered during an act of rage. Rage from betrayal by Becca and by the humans he had sworn to protect. _One of our kind is being mistreated by your humans, Michael. The ones you love._ Rage from seeing an innocent-- tortured and mutilated because he trusted her. _Michael look at me! Look at what's left of me!_ Rage for his failure to see her for what she really was. _I never saw that blade, Michael._ Rage on the realization that perhaps Gabriel had been right all along. _This creation of his, his pride and joy was a failure of epic proportions._

Rage at himself.

Humans often forgot that angels did not handle judgment and forgiveness. The Father judged the humans, he alone decided who was worthy of forgiveness. The Archangels? They were all about worshipping him and carrying out his judgement. The Archangels were his messengers and in Michael's case, his wrath.

It's been twenty five years since God disappeared. Now, all of them have been changed by their Father's absence. Without their Father's guidance, they set upon the Earth without restraint, untempered. Gabriel declared war on humanity. And now Michael had the potential to be the Flood again. He had to mete out Justice. Justice in the only way he knows. He was wrath unleashed. Justice that is the most absolute. 

_"Everything you've taught me! Everything! And this is how it ends?!"_

The sting of Alex's sword on his skin woke him up. The hurt and frustration behind Alex's words crushed him at his very core. He killed Becca, he killed his soldiers. He realized he forgot what made him want to save humanity in the first place. Mercy. Justice without mercy is not justice at all. Mercy and forgiveness. Redemption and healing. Perhaps.

"Please Father! The silence is deafening...I beg you...please." 

Quo Vadis, Michael ?

**Author's Note:**

> Re watched Episode 8 after rewatching episode 6 for my fic "Ink". Thus reliving my Loius and Michael feels for that episode...ugh.


End file.
